Beer partakers Unite! At Fremont Brewing Co.
By: Chasse Gunter
A lot of folks drink beer for a variety of different reasons. Some drink to make the world in and/or outside seem a little more pretty,or to loosen them up (socially). Some folks just like a refreshing miscellaneous 80 to 91 cent can of yellowish beer to chase a ten hour shift (working for people who have probably never even drank out of a can). Some of us drink for no identifiable reason—and frankly, no reason need be given, if our freedom bought us one thing—am I right (or being melodramatic)? While I used to be a drinker of several of the aforementioned varieties, drinking too many (“too” “many”) quality beers and watching too many beer documentaries has changed me into a new variety of beer partaker (the sort that says partaker, for one). Beer is marker of human technological progress. It’s a tick mark painted on a hypothetical cave wall time line which dates back before there were even cave paintings (don’t quote me on that, though). So, I drink beer for political, cultural, and anthropological reasons (and this is where my B.S degree really shines). Every sip I take is an act of both historical preservation and keeping civilization progressing forward—take that Einstein and Indiana Jones! Finally, you can now save the world without having to leave your bar stool.
Close to the time of fire’s invention (the recorded dates are a tad bit disputed), some sober caveman (or recant mud-hut-man) left barley in a clay pot, it got rained on, it fermented itself, someone drank it, felt funny—then the accident was repeated ever since. Many claim beer sparked the agricultural revolution, among many other things; for more on that, watch the documentary called “How Beer Saved the World“. Like I said before, I’m interested in beer as a historical and cultural marker of human progress (which is a better line than: “it’s five o’clock somewhere.” No one would tell superman to not save the world because it’s ONLY six in the freakin’ morning!). The process of brewing has always been married to technology. Agriculture, whether sparked by beer, or not, meant instead of foraging for barely, fields of specific varieties could be grown and harvested to produce higher quantity and qualities of beer. The bronze age meant more than—what? bronze weapons—it also meant larger batches of beer. Speaking of bronze and awkward transitions—the beer I chose for the specific review, is a light bronze color (that was a close one).
First Impression: Actually I chose Fremont Brewing’s Interurban IPA for more meaningful reasons than a convenient color (and besides the fact that IPAs are growing on me). Reason one: India Pale Ales, specifically, have a rich geological history. Something to do with preservation and India—I faintly remember it being the only cool thing I learned in my geology class (and look, it’s still gone). I promise to elaborate on that story in my next IPA related escapade. Reason two: I ran into one of Fremont Brewery’s employees on a too-drunk-to-write pilgrimage at an awesome pinball bar on Capital Hill (Seattle). Upon swapping disjointed life stories we intersected on the point where he makes local craft beer and I review it; He bought me this very IPA, in a can, with a logo fit for currency, and invited me out to the brewery for even more fuel for review. I actually was going to go out for a taste and tour, but got in a fender bender on the way to the brewery—so, I will definably make that happen on a luckier day some time down the road.
Taste: Their website describes it best: [an] “IPA does not have to kill you with bitterness to be good.” This one certainly has hops (and hints of honey!), but they are pretty dang sweet if I say so myself. Thank God technology has brought us to this point—and I suppose some thanks should be reserved for Orin (hopefully spelled right), pinball, fate and Fremont Brewing. This bronze colored, optionally contained in aluminum, IPA goes down much easier than rising car insurance rates.
Final Impression: Full and hoppy, it turns out, no longer has to mean bitter and over-filling. I will do a follow up on both the history of IPA and my eventual full-on taste tour of Fremont Brewery (putting faith in the idea that city buses cannot crash). This small family owned micro-brewery has at least one awesome employee and word on the street is the others are at least as friendly. So, stop by their beer garden or pick up a six pack, if not for yourself, than for the sake of human progress.